Fire Song
by OnceUponALegend
Summary: Gold met silver. Did you know Phoenixes can take human form? My father did.
1. Hecate's Daughter

SUMMERY - Did you know that Phoenixes can take human form? My father did.

DISCLAIMER - I do not own Harry Potter or any affiliated trademarks. Nor do I get paid for my writings.

CHAPTER WARNINGS - None

Chapter I - Hecate's Daughter

Slowly the long line of first years thinned; in the pauses between the names and the Sorting Hat's decisions, Harry could hear Ron's stomach grumbling loudly. Finally, "Zeller, Rose" was sorted into hufflepuff. Oddly, Professor Mcgonagall did not clear away the hat and stool as Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet.

"As some of you may know, Hogwarts was once part of a student exchange program. Unfortunately, that program ended some years ago. But this year, due to a request from the Daughters of Hecate, we will once again have a foreign student in our midst."

"Zyphera, Phoenix" Professor Mcgonagall's voice called,and a side door opened, revealing the transfer student.

Phoenix was a small girl, but not someone to be overlooked. A torrent of flaming gold fell to her feet, framing a slender, boyish body held straight as an arrow. Eyes the color of amber ran over the assembled students as she set the hat on her head. Her skin was the color of alabaster and seemed to glow with its own soft light.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Whoops and cheers rose toward the enchanted ceiling as the grinning fifth year joined her new house, pulling her long hair out of the way before sliding into an empty spot. On Phoenix's left, Ginny Weasley offered a friendly smile. Dubledore raised a hand for silence.

"To our newcomers," said Dumbledore in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, "welcome! To our old hands - welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

Phoenix laughed appreciatively along with the others as Dumbledore sat down. Her hands, small and square with long, slim fingers, were instantly busy. She piled nearly as much on her plate as Ron did. Though she was, of course, much more polite about it, and didn't talk with her mouth full. Instead she sat in silence, listening intently to the conversation between the golden trio and Nearly Headless Nick.

When Ron accidentally insulted the house ghost she laughed quietly into her pumpkin juice, and turned red with suppressed giggles at his name. Thankfully the spirit didn't seem to notice, so angry was he with Ron. Hermione didn't seem to notice either, a fact which probably kept Phoenix, newcomer or not, from suffering through a lecture such as the witch gave her friend. When she was finished, Hermione turned to the new Gryffindor. An act which, conveniently, allowed her to turn her back on a certain Weasley. But before she could ask her questions, he broke in.

"What are the Daughters of Hecate?"

Hermione threw up her hands, despairing at Ron's ignorance. Phoenix just grinned. She found Ron's cluelessness rather amusing.

"We are members of a small, exclusive, school of witchcraft. Don't feel bad about not knowing, very few people outside of Greece are aware of our existence."

"Why did your school send you here? Dumbledore said they specially requested that you come to Hogwarts."

"I asked it of the matron. Someday perhaps, I will explain why. But the story is a long one, and dark. At this point in time the knowledge would cause more harm than good."

The noise in the hall came to an abrupt halt as Dumbledore got once more to his feet and gave the start of term announcements. When professor Umbridge interrupted the headmaster, Harry notice Phoenix's eyebrows snap together. Obviously, that was not the way things were done at her school either.

By the end of Umbridge's speech, Phoenix was as distant as most of the other students, humming softly under her breath in a minor key. Se said nothing to Hermione's ominous words, and Harry wasn't sure she'd even heard them. When he got up to leave, she was still sitting in her place, head slightly cocked, staring towards the far wall. It wasn't until he nearly ran into a certain someone standing in her line of sight that he realized what, or more accurately, who, she was staring at. That someone was Draco Malfoy.


	2. Phoenix's PoV

Phoenix's PoV

I felt drawn to him. The attraction wasn't due to his looks, though they weren't bad. There was something there, something strong. But could he be the one, is was what I felt the fatal attraction of a moth to flame?


	3. Revelations

SUMMERY - Did you know that Phoenixes can take human form? My father did.

DISCLAIMER - I do not own Harry Potter or any affiliated trademarks. Nor do I get paid for my writings.

CHAPTER WARNINGS - None

WARNINGS - OotP spoilers later on

Chapter 2 -

(The next morning)

"What's the matter?" asked Hermione, catching up with Harry and Ron halfway across the common room as they all headed toward breakfast. "You look absolutely- oh, for heaven's sake."

She was staring the common room notice board where a large new sign had been put up. Phoenix, who had just come down the stairs, threw back her head and laughed. Hermione shot a glare at her before taking down the Weasley twins' advertisement.

Harry noticed that in the daylight, without the glow of the candles, Phoenix was not nearly so striking as she'd first appeared. With her golden hair braided around the crown of her head, her face was too thin to be beautiful. Her skin no longer had its own luminescence; with a hair cut, and in the right clothes, she would have easily passed for a boy. But there was still something about her, an aura just at the edge of feeling; a faint sense of hauting, half remembered melodies and flames dancing in the night.

Abruptly, Harry realized that Ron and Hermione were waiting for him at the portrait hole. He pulled himself together and followed them out.

"Anyway, what's up, Harry?" Hermione continued her previous line of questioning as they walked down a flight of stairs lined with portraits of old witches and wizards, all of whom ignored them, being engrossed in their own conversation. "You look really angry about something."

"Seamus reckons Harry's lying about You-Know-Who," said Ron succintly, when Harry didn't respond.

Hermione, whom Harry had expected to react angrily on his behalf, sighed.

"Yes, Lavender thinks so to.." She said gloomily.

"Been having a nice talk with her about whether or not I'm a lying, attention-seeking prat, have you?" Harry said loudly.

"No," said Hermione calmly, "I told her to keep her big fat mouth shut about you, actually. And it would be quite nice if you stopped jumping down Pon and my throats, Harry, because if you haven't noticed, we're on your side."

There was a short pause.

"Sorry," Harry said in a low voice.

A thought suddenly occured to him.

"What did Phoenix say?"

Hermione grinned.

"She said that she was new here and didn't wish to presume, but it seemed to her that we wanted a hero only to throw trash at him when we didn't like what he said. And also, that anyone who has the ability to ignore every fact to the contrary in order to hide thier heads in the sand, and thereby escape from the rumors of peril, only to encounter the real thing, deserves an award for cowardice."

"Opinionated little thing, isn't she?" Ron asked.

"Very." Hermione's expression became rather odd. "You know, she asked me a very strange question. Last night, for a few minutes, she and I were the only ones in our dorm, and she asked me the name of the boy who sits at the center of Slytherin table. She seemed shy about it, too. But why would she ask about Malfoy? And when I told her his name she thanked me and practically bounced to her bed."

"I saw her staring at him last night." Harry offered.

"Don't tell me she likes the git, " Ron groaned. "He's a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake, not to metion the pure-blood poster boy."

"If she does, it can only be for his looks, and that attraction will fade as soon as he opens his mouth in her presence."

Ron and Harry nodded, accepting Hermione's wisdom in the area of female crushes. The discussion over for the time being, she turned thier talk to more important things than one Greek transfer student.

Nothing signifigant involving Phoenix happened during Potions. Snape treated her the same as he did most of Gryffindor house, with a nonchalant condesension. She, in her turn, ignored him. But in Divination, there was an incident which none of those present were likely to forget.

The class started out as it ought, with Trelawny greeting the students in her misty voice and telling them which book to take out. At the end of the class, though, just before dismissal, Trelawny seemed to remember that there was a student in her class whose palm she hadn't read. She called Phoenix to the front.

Long moments passed with the professor bent over Phoenixes hand. When she looked up, her huge eyes were nearly the size of plates. Her voice trembeled when she adressed the transfer.

"My dear, you are cursed."


	4. Temper, Temper

SUMMERY - Did you know that Phoenixes can take human form? My father did.

DISCLAIMER - I do not own Harry Potter or any affiliated trademarks. Nor do I get paid for my writings.

CHAPTER WARNINGS - None

About half the chapter is not my writing, but Rowling's, I do not claim these passages in any way, but it was necessary that I use them to integrate Phoenix into the story. One of her comments here is very important. hint,hint :)

Thanks to all those who reviewed and my apologies on not putting up responses. I'll do that now.

ILOVEmattandHARRY - You have been my most faithful reviewer so far. Thanks a bunch. Draco would actually work out better with a Gryffindor than a Slytherin in my opinion; the other members of his house are too much like him for it to work.

hp-fanfic-reviewer - Thanks for the vote of confidence.

lemonwedges4 - Glad you like it

Chapter 3 - Temper, Temper

Phoenix raised an eyebrow.

"And how many students have you given that line? You'd make an excellent actress."

Trelawny's eyes narrowed. "Class dismissed."

Harry and Ron caught up with Phoenix in the hall. She was silent, with a look on her face that hinted at resignation. But when she looked up, they could see pain in her eyes.

"Don't worry about it, Trelawny's just a big fake. When Harry first started divination, she prophesied multiple times that he was going to die. The more gloom and doom the better in her opinion."

When they entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom they found Professor Umbridge already seated at the teacher's desk. She was wearing the fluffy pink cardigan of the night before and a black velvet bow on top of her head. Harry was again reminded forcibly of a large fly perched unwisely on top of an even larger toad. It was obvious Phoenix thought of the same thing, because she made a sound like a frog's croak under her breath. The boys did their best not to laugh, and even Hermione didn't look disapproving at the comparison.

The class was quiet as it entered the room; Professor Umbridge was as yet an unknown quantity and nobody knew yet how strict a disciplinarian she was likely to be.

"Well, good afternoon!" she said when finally the whole class had sat down.

A few people mumbled, "Good afternoon," in reply.

"Tut, tut," said Professor Umbridge. "THAT won't do, now, will it?" I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," they chanted back at her. Well, all except Phoenix; who, it appeared, had a rebellious streak a mile wide. She rolled her eyes.

"There, now," said Professor Umbridge sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."

Many of the class exchanged gloomy looks; the order "wands away" had never yet been followed by a lesson they found interesting. Phoenix looked slightly confused, and leaned over to Harry as he shoved his wand back inside his bag and pulled out quill, ink, and parchment.

"How do you have a Defense Against the Dark Arts class without a wand?"

Harry shrugged and both turned quickly to face the front.

Professor Umbridge opened her handbag, extracted her own wand, which was an unusually short one, and tapped the blackboard sharply with it; words appeared on the board at once.

Defense Against the Dark Arts

A return to basic principles

"Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?"stated Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any ministry approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your owl year.

"You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now being rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-aproved, course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please."

She rapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by:

Course aims:

1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.

2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can be legally used.

3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

For a couple of minutes the room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment. When everyone had copied down Professor Umbridge's three course aims she said, "Has everybody got a copy of _Defensive Magical Theory_ by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

There was a dull murmur of assent throughout the class.

"I think we'll try that again," said Professor Umbridge. "When I ask you a question I should like you to reply 'Yes, Professor Umbridge', or 'No, Professor Umbridge.' So, has everyone got a copy of _Defensive Magical Theory_ by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

"Yes, Professor Umbridge," rang through the room.

"Good," said Professor Umbridge. "I should like you to turn to page five and read chapter one, 'Basics for Beginners.' There will be no need to talk."

Professor Umbridge left the blackboard and settled herself in the chair behind the teacher's desk, observing them all with those pouchy toad's eyes. Phoenix turned to page five of _Defensive Magical Theory_ and began to read.

Within five seconds she was nearly ready to throw the book, just to see what Professor Umbridge's reaction would be. It certainly wouldn't be good, but it had to be more interesting than sitting there staring at some boring old man's description of basic defensive theory. She would have too, if she hadn't noticed Hermione's hand in the air.

'This ought to be interesting,' Phoenix thought. 'The old toad is trying to ignore her, probably thinks to out-wait her. But somehow, I don't think Granger is the giving in type.'

It seemed she was right, for more and more of the class looked u from their books to focus on Hermione. When more than half the class was watching, Umbridge seemed to decide she could ignore the situation no longer.

"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" she asked Hermione as though she had only just noticed her.

"Not about the chapter, no," said Hermione.

"Well we're reading just now," said Umbridge, showing her small, pointed teeth. "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."

"I've got a query about your course aims." said Hermione

Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows.

"And your name is -?"

"Hermione Granger."

"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read then through carefully," said Professor Umbridge in a voice of determined sweetness.

"Well, I don't," said Hermione bluntly. "There's nothing up there about _using_ defensive spells."

There was a short silence in which many members of the class turned their heads to frown at the three course aims still written on the blackboard.

"_Using_ defensive spells?" Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"

"We're not going to use magic?" Ron ejaculated loudly.

"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr. -?"

"Weasley," said Ron, thrusting his hand into the air.

Professor Umbridge, smiling still more widely, turned her back on him. Phoenix, Harry and Hermione immediately raised their hands too. Professor Umbridge's pouchy eyes lingered on Harry for a moment before she addressed Phoenix.

"Yes, Miss -?"

"Zyphera. And don't you think it's a little childish to ignore people?"

"Ten points from Gryfinndor for cheek."

Phoenix shrugged and Umbridge turned to address Hermione.

"Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted something else?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?"

"Are you a ministry-trained expert, Miss Granger?" asked Professor Umbridge in her falsely sweet voice.

"No, but-"

"Well then, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the 'whole point' of any class is. Wizards much older and wiser than you have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk free way-"

"What use is that?" said Harry loudly. "If we're going to be attacked it's not going to be in a-"

"Hand, Mr. Potter," sang Professor Umbridge.

Harry thrust his fist in the air. Professor Umbridge promptly turned away from him again, but now several other people had their hands up too.

Phoenix, completely ignoring the rule said again, "You really are being childish, you know. One doesn't usually expect to find teachers going around with their fingers in their ears like five-"

"Twenty points from Gryffindor. And your name is?" Professor Umbridge addressed the second sentence to Dean.

"Dean Thomas."

"Well, Mr. Thomas?"

"Well, it's like Harry said, isn't it?" said Dean. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk free -"

"I repeat," said Professor Umbridge, smiling in a very irritating way at Dean, "do you expect to be attacked during my classes?"

"No, but-"

Professor Umbridge talked over him.

"I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school, " she said, an unconvincing smile stretching her wide mouth; Phoenix muttered, "Yes you do," too quietly for her to hear; "but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed - not to mention," she gave a nasty little laugh, "extremely dangerous half-breeds."

"There's nothing wrong with half-breeds! And if you'd shut your fat mouth and stop acting like a five-year-old long enough to listen to these people you'd know that."

The entire class turned to stare at Phoenix. Her golden eyes flashed fire, and she'd stood up so fast her chair had fallen over. If Harry hadn't known better he would've sworn the the loose wisps of her hair had turned to flames.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor, and a detention for you, Miss Zyphera. You will be in my office tonight at five o' clock."

Phoenix sat down, fuming, and Dean Thomas broke in angrily.

"If by 'half-breeds' you mean Professor Lupin, he was the best we ever-"

"Hand, Mr. Thomas! As I was saying-"

"At the risk of seeming redundant," Phoenix, who obviously felt that since she was five feet deep she might as well go the whole six, interrupted, "You really are-"

"Miss Zyphera! You have lost your house eighty points to date, I will make the number one hundred, and you will not speak for the remainder of this class if you wish to have a free evening this week. As it is, you will go stand in the hall with Filtch until the end of this class.

Phoenix, her golden head high, smiled at Umbridge. It was not a smile Harry found nice, even Draco Malfoy didn't smile like that. But he knew the reason for such a look. Because despite the lost points and detention, Phoenix had Umbridge's composure. She'd won, and she knew it.

A/N I typed my fingers to the bone. REVIEW; or I will send Phoenix after you. Also, did anyone pick up my hint in the author's note up top?


	5. Numb

SUMMERY - Did you know that Phoenixes can take human form? My father did.

DISCLAIMER - I do not own Harry Potter or any affiliated trademarks. Nor do I get paid for my writings.

CHAPTER WARNINGS - None

ILOVEmattandHARRY - Kudos to you for figuring out the hint. You _can_ feel smart, 'cause you are. Besides, even if you are over analyzing stuff, you've been right on most counts. Keep up the good work, and the awesome reviews.

Lemonwedges4 - Glad you liked the story enough to stay on board. Also, I'm glad to know that Phoenix fascinates you; she fascinates me too. Even I don't know sometimes what she'll do next.

Chase-kun - Thanks for reviewing.

You guys are awesome. Your reviews keep this story going.

'...' is thoughts

Chapter 4 - Numb

Phoenix entered Umbridge's office at precisely five o' clock. She'd let her hair down, and the golden locks seemed almost to move by themselves, as though affected by a breeze only she could feel. Her amber eyes laughed as she took in the decor.

Every flat surface was draped in lacy cloth. Several faces full of dried flowers had been placed on doilies around the room. But it was the ornamental plates with Technicolor kittens that made Phoenix bite her lip to hold back a giggle. They were so ugly she didn't know what to do but laugh at them.

Professor Umbridge rose from the chair behind the teacher's desk and gestured to a small table to her left. On the table lay a piece of parchment and a black quill that looked rather sharp. Phoenix gazed at the Professor, waiting for instructions though she knew quite well that she was supposed to sit down.

"Well, sit down." Umbridge's tone held the slightest hint of impatience.

Phoenix sat and picked up the thin black quill. Her eyes ran carefully over the implement, examining it. She noticed there was no ink on the table, but said nothing.

"I should like you to write 'I will respect those wiser than I.'"

Umbridge watched the girl for a moment, as though waiting for her to ask a question regarding the instructions; but Phoenix didn't. Asking questions was what the professor expected her to do, she wasn't going to grant her the pleasure of conceding. So she put the point of the quill to the parchment and began to write.

'I will respect those wiser than I' appeared in shining red ink. Phoenix thought nothing of it. If that was the color this quill was spelled to write in, then so be it. An odd color for ink certainly, but it didn't affect anything. Then she noticed the cuts on the back of her hand. A wry smile twisted her lips. 'Talk about irony.'

Some minutes later, Phoenix glanced up to see Umbridge watching her. The smug smile had slipped of her wide face and she looked decidedly disappointed. Phoenix laughed softly, though her heart was not in it, and the noise sounded almost bitter.

Hours passed, never once did Phoenix so much as flinch. Her eyes were glazed and distant as she wrote, and she hummed softly under her breath, a haunting tune in a minor key.

At last, Professor Umbridge called Phoenix to her desk.

"Hand."

Phoenix held out her hand. The cuts had healed, though faint traces remained; much more and she would have been left with a scar. Even so, the skin on the back of her left hand was raw and red. Umbridge seemed mildly satisfied.

"I should hope you learned a lesson here. Will you respect those wiser than you now?"

"Yes Professor, I shall do my best to respect those - wiser than I"

A gracious smile touched her lips, but her eyes were mocking. Fortunately for her, Umbridge didn't notice.

"You may go."

"Thank you kindly." The mockery in Phoenix's eyes had spread to her face, and she nodded her head just slightly in a scathing imitation of respect as she spoke. Umbridge's lips thinned, but before she could say anything, Phoenix was gone.

It was nearly eleven thirty by the time Phoenix reached Gryffindor Tower. Hermione was still in the common room, studying in the faint glow of the fire.

"Phoenix, you were in that office for hours. What did she make you do?"

"Lines."

Phoenix made as though to walk past, but Hemione stopped her, eyes on her hand.

"What happened?"

When Phoenix remained silent, Hermione took the smaller hand in her own. Her eyes widened at the sight of the barely visible lines carved into the skin. They were too faint to read anymore, but it was obvious enough that Phoenix had somehow cut her hand during the time she was in Umbridge's office.

"Does it hurt?" Hermione asked with sympathy in her warm brown eyes.

Phoenix collapsed bonelessly onto the couch next to Hermione, her eyes bleak.

"No," she whispered.


	6. Phoenix's PoV II

SUMMERY - Did you know that Phoenixes can take human form? My father did.

DISCLAIMER - I do not own Harry Potter or any affiliated trademarks. Nor do I get paid for my writings.

That-Golden-Snitch - Thanks a million. It's nice to know somebody appriciates the hour I spent typing my fingers to the bone so I sould mix Phoenix into the book. ;)

Just kidding you guys; I love all of you

Phoenix's PoV

I don't know why I told her that. But somehow it just seemed like it was time. All I know is that I was far too tired to lie to someone as smart as Granger.


	7. Truth

SUMMERY - Did you know that Phoenixes can take human form? My father did.

DISCLAIMER - I do not own Harry Potter or any affiliated trademarks. Nor do I get paid for my writings.

Chapter Four - Truth

Hermione stared incredulously at the golden girl in front of her. "What do you mean it doesn't hurt? Your entire hand is red. Are you all right?"

"What I mean, Hermione, is that I don't feel the scratches. I _can't _feel them. And no, I don't think I am 'all right'. It's bad enough to have the fact that you're cursed announced to the entire divination class, but to be reminded of it so forcibly by someone as despicable as that toad is just awful."

"But I thought Trelawny was just making that up like she always does. And you acted like she was wrong. No one knew that she'd been right for once. But what do you mean, you can't feel the scratches?" said Hermione

Phoenix sighed. "How is it possible for such a bright girl to be so stupid?" she said as she turned to look into Hermione's chocolate eyes. "I can't feel _anything_; not the pain, not your hand, nothing."

Phoenix looked almost as though she were going to cry, and the sight combined with her words floored Hermione. Phoenix was bright and happy and hot-tempered. Not this.

"How long?"

"Since I was born. My father's best friend decided that if dad was going to abandon him for a woman that he didn't deserve to be happy. They weren't lovers or anything," she added in response to Hermione's shocked look, "Dad's friend was just really possessive. They found out later that he had a mental disorder. But that didn't make him any less capable of casting a strong curse."

"I thought that those kind of curses were only found in muggle fairy tales," Hermione said softly, "I had no idea stuff like that actually happened to people."

"Most myths have a bit of truth to them; muggle fairy tales included," Phoenix said.

"Is there any way of breaking the curse?"

"Oh yes; how are most curses broken in muggle story books?" Phoenix allowed a hint of laughter into her tone.

"You mean you have to kiss your true love to break the curse?" Hermione was amused.

"Yes, but not just anyone can be my true love. That's the problem. Actually, that's the reason I came to Hogwarts. I've been to five schools in five years, hoping to find the right one.

"You see, father's friend was a well known seer. He knew quite well he couldn't create an unbreakable curse, and when he placed it his seer side took over and prophesied the way to end it. Would you like to hear the curse?"

Hermione nodded.

Phoenix did not speak, instead, she began to sing. The tune was haunting and sad, enhanced by a voice the likes of which Hermione had never heard from a human throat.

"Ashen child, golden bird

None shall ever break my word

'Til palest Dragon, icy cold

Your hand with love in his shall hold

Until that day, you shall not feel

Not touch of hand, nor bite of steel

Not fire's heat, nor deadly chill

'Til curse is broke by Dragon's will"

It took Hermione a moment to realize that silence had fallen. Phoenix was gazing into the middle distance, and she almost decided it would be best not to disturb her. But curiosity was gnawing at her.

"Do you know what it means by 'palest dragon?'"

"I didn't. No one we knew could figure it out. I think that I know now though."

Phoenix turned and her eyes locked with Hermione's.

"I think it's talking about Draco Malfoy."


End file.
